On Leaving England
I think about my hosts, my friends
As I prepare to fly.
I think of velvet paws and eyes
Which mask the barbs and sighs.
Where I would yap and bark and vent,
And think hot breath will cool.
My friends would gently disagree.
Politeness always rules.
I say this in my farewell words
While looking at my friends.
Their cracks and edges covered up,
The fire light in their eyes.
My speech stalled by my ‘You are here…’
‘…because you love me’ hangs.
Then bursting through our sad good night;
‘But we’re just being polite’.